


Threats to Our Happiness

by MediocreMe



Series: Headcanons [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Homophobic Language, M/M, Spoilers, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:31:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MediocreMe/pseuds/MediocreMe
Summary: Just a little headcanon of mine from the bts we received today involving Terry and Mickey in front of the Gallagher house!
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Headcanons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1543111
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	Threats to Our Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> *Spoiler alert*  
This fic contains spoilers for season 10 of shameless. Read at your own risk! 
> 
> *T/w - homophobic language, guns, and threats of violence

The smell of brewed coffee hit Ian as he sleepily trotted down the stairs and into the Gallagher kitchen. The house was completely empty – _save for himself and his fiancé_, who was now pouring fresh coffee into two mugs that sat on the counter. Ian still couldn’t believe he could use that word to describe Mickey now. _Fiancé. _Wow. He could still remember the first day they’d hooked up at the Milkovich house. All Ian wanted to do was retrieve the gun that Mickey had stolen and get the fuck out of there, but fate had other plans. He’d found the love of his life that day, and even though they’d gone through hell and back since then, it had all been worth it.

There were a few things that Ian would personally like to alter from their past, but that didn’t really matter much anymore. Though Mickey had long forgiven Ian for ditching him in prison and at the border, he was still going to make sure he spent the rest of their lives making it clear how truly sorry he was.

Mickey looked up at the sound of Ian stepping into the kitchen and gave him a warm smile. He was wearing a black and grey-striped shirt, his sleeves pulled up enough for his South Side tattoo to poke out, and, in true Mickey fashion, a dark blue vest with the sleeves cut off. Mickey’s jeans were dark-colored and tight enough to show the full shape of his ass. His black hair was slicked back a little and Ian could see the happiness in his ocean blue eyes. _Fuck_, he looked so good like this.

“Bout time you decided to show your face down here, Gallagher,” Mickey taunted, handing Ian the now full mug. Ian sat his coffee back on the counter and pulled Mickey into him by his hips.

“Couldn’t stay in bed any longer. I was too cold without you,” Ian confessed.

“You knew we needed to get up early today, Ian. Got a big day of plannin’ ahead of us,” Mickey informed. Ian let out an exaggerated groan.

“You know, the last person I would’ve_ ever_ expected to be this excited about planning a wedding would be you, Mick.” Ian leaned in to give his man a light kiss on the lips. When they pulled apart, Mickey gripped onto Ian’s biceps and shifted his gaze down shyly.

“I just…never thought I’d get here, ya know? Like… with you.” Mickey’s voice was quiet and maybe even a little sad, Ian noticed. He leaned down to plant another kiss on the his future husband’s lips.

“Me either, but we’re here, Mick. We made it and I’m so fucking excited I get to spend my entire life with you. That other shit doesn’t matter anymore.”

Mickey sighed.

“It’s just different this time than…than the last time I got married. I want it to be perfect for us.”

Ian shuddered at the memory. It was a dark part of his life that Ian didn’t like to dwell on and he knew it was even worse for Mickey.

Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey’s neck and embraced him in a hug, kissing his fiancé’s temple.

“I know,” Ian whispered. They held the embrace for a few seconds before Mickey wiggled out of it, grabbing his coffee to take a sip.

“Anyways, we got a shit ton to do, Gallagher. Might wanna hurry and go get dressed. I’ll throw a couple of pop-tarts in the toaster –”

A loud yell coming from outside the house cut off whatever Mickey was trying to say. Ian wasn’t able to make out the words, but he definitely knew that voice. Judging by the wide-eyed look Mickey was giving the front door, Ian knew he recognized it as well.

“Stay here,” Mickey ordered, now making his way into the living room.

“Mickey, what –”

“_Stay. Here,_” Mickey repeated, his voice holding a more commanding tone this time.

Instead of immediately opening the door as Ian had expected, Mickey sprinted upstairs. He reappeared a few seconds later, gun in hand.

Ian felt all the air in his lungs instantly exit his body.

“Mickey, no! You’re on probation!” Ian called out, though his words fell on deaf ears as Mickey swung the door open and slammed it shut, disappearing from Ian’s sight. Ian’s heart was pounding in his chest now and he made his way to the door as fast as he could.

_Stupid fucking boot_, Ian thought to himself. He’d fucked up his leg a few weeks ago and the stupid boot he’d been forced to wear was really slowing him down right now.

Ian opened the door to a view that almost made his heart jump out of his throat. There on the sidewalk stood Mickey and Terry fucking Milkovich, both pointing pistols at each other and yelling.

“Shackin’ up with some faggot like a goddamn homo,” Terry spat in Mickey’s face, “and then I gotta go to the Alibi and hear about you and that fuckin’ redhead gettin’ engaged. I outta shoot you both.”

“You try to even get near, Ian, and I’ll fuckin’ murder you, you homophobic piece of shit,” Mickey yelled back, gun still trained on Terry’s face.

“Mickey!” Ian shrieked as he noticed Terry’s thumb cocking his gun. Both men turned towards him, Mickey’s expression shifting from livid to horrified.

“Ian, I told you to stay the _fuck_ inside!” Mickey scolded him as he turned his focus back to Terry, concentrating on his father’s every move.

Terry kept his gun on Mickey, but his attention was now fully fixated on Ian.

“Fuckin’ faggot! Turning my son fuckin’ gay! I thought you learned your lesson the first time you –”

“Aye!” Mickey shouted, grabbing Terry’s attention once again. “This is between you and me, douchebag.” Mickey brought the gun down a little as he dramatically cocked it and pointed it back at Terry. If Ian hadn’t been so worried that he was about to watch the love of his life get shot in front of him, he would’ve thought the act was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

“Now,” Mickey continued, his voice serious and threatening, “I’m not afraid to shoot your ass right here, right now. I’ll go back to jail if it means protecting Ian from you, you fuckin’ prick, so I suggest you get the fuck outta hear before I decide to end you.”

Terry was breathing hard and giving Mickey a deadly look that made Ian want to scream. Terry stared at Mickey with narrowed eyes as if he was trying to read whether or not Mickey was bluffing. He almost looked ready to pull the trigger and shoot when he finally dropped his gun.

“This ain't over, asshole,” Terry mumbled under a heated breath as he made his way around Mickey and began stomping away from the house. Mickey dropped his gun once he realized his dad had given up and let out a relieved sigh. Ian watched as Mickey turned to keep his eyes on Terry before the homophobic prick disappeared down the street. Mickey tucked the gun into the waistband behind back and brought a hand up to his face.

Ian wanted to run down the steps and wrap himself around Mickey, but he knew he needed to give his fiancé a moment to pull himself together. After a few seconds, Mickey finally walked through the gate and back up the steps, immediately finding his way into Ian’s arms. Ian gripped him tightly and felt the way Mickey was shaking in his hold.

“You okay?” Ian whispered.

Mickey swallowed and leaned his forehead into Ian’s neck.

“Yeah, that was just… a lot,” Mickey admitted.

“I know,” Ian told him.

“I was worried he might shoot you. Told you to stay inside, asshole.”

“You really think I’d stay inside while your prick of a dad has a gun to your head? Yeah right.”

Mickey gave a humorless laugh.

“Still…I was scared.”

“I know,” Ian said, “I was scared, too. But we’re okay. We’re both okay and he’s gone.”

Ian waited for a response, but Mickey stayed silent.

“I love you so fucking much, Mick. You know that, right?”

“’Course I do. I love you too,” Mickey mumbled into his chest.

Ian ran a comforting hand through Mickey’s black hair.

“C’mon, fucker,” Ian teased. “We’re gonna go upstairs so I can fuck the shit out of you and help you relieve some stress. Then we’re gonna go get breakfast – _my treat_ – and get this day started. We got a wedding to plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot that I spent an hour writing before heading to bed. Might do a 2nd chapter if we find out this week how Mickey got that bruise on his eye.  
Hope you enjoyed :)


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